A/N: Well, this only took about three eternities to write. Sorry for the lag.

.bdobd.

They didn't run into anyone until eleven o'clock the next day. Cassandra rounded a corner and Jim and Spock couldn't agree on which way to run. Her eyes widened.

"Jim!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"Lady Amanda needed to shop for lunch supplies," Spock said quickly. "We went to explore the surrounding area, and found ourselves here."

Cassandra blinked at Jim. "Why are you eating if she is now buying food?"

Jim froze. He'd been hungry for lunch, and in this time line, Amanda was just explaining to this time's Jim what was so freaky about this time's Spock's shell's identity. "He has a high metabolism," Spock provided, "and she warned that it would take her some time to cook."

"Oh. I understand." Cassandra nodded sagely. "It must be tiring, needing to consume in such a manner."

She made it sound like he was shoveling cake into his mouth with both hands. Jim stared incredulously down at his salad. "It's just salad."

Cassandra shrugged. "I suppose."

She spent the next few moment staring at Jim as he ate, which was more than a little unnerving. "A'y'ting 'oo 'eeded ta ask?" He asked as pointedly as he could with a mouthful of alien leaves.

"Yes, actually." She seemed hypnotized by chewing. Jim swallowed painfully. "What are your instructions? I did not hear anything of your orders."

"I'm kind of on call," Jim lied. "I think I'll wind up going with Picea to the High Council."

She nodded. "That makes sense. He was nervous."

Jim shrugged. "T'Pau's not so bad, once you get to know her."

Spock kicked him really really hard under the table. Jim had no idea why until Cassandra asked, "When did you get to talk to T'Pau?"

Jim now wanted to kick himself. "Um. She showed us to Sarek's house."

"As an escort," Spock supplied, so that it didn't sound like Sarek had forgotten where he lived.

Cassandra's eyes widened. "Wow, you must have had to wait ages. She showed us around the embassy and I did not see either of you."

–

"Sarek was giving us a separate tour of his offices," Spock said.

"Oh. That makes sense." Cassandra tilted her head like Spock did when he was replying to an email. "I must go. Autonomia and Lystol are leaving."

"Okay." "Very well."

"Goodbye guys!" she shouted as she left. Jim waved and Spock nodded.

Spock waited a minute before hitting Jim's shoulder with a sharp twack! of metal on flesh. "O-ow!" Jim rubbed at the wound. "That's gonna bruise!"

"Are you a fool?" Spock asked rhetorically.

Jim scowled at him. "You want me to say yes?"

"Cassandra is now to go to Autonomia and Lystol and tell them all of what we have told her."

"So what? It's a really vague story and she bought it. We'll be fine. Worse thing that happens, we play damage control when we get back."

"What if we do not get back?" Spock asked. "If too much is changed –,"

"Look." Jim waved his fork existentially. "I've been thinking. What if we are 'back'? If these things happened while we were at your parent's house, we wouldn't've known. There's no reason for anyone to mention this to you while you're with the science people. I think that this time's Jim is going to die no matter what. We just take their places."

Spock looked carefully around the cafeteria-ish place. It was still deserted. As far as they could tell, Vulcans only ate in the morning.

"Then what is to happen to this time's Spock?" he asked. "I may agree with your theory on some things, but not on the replacement clause. If you are to take the place of this time's Jim, that is all well. But what of this time's me?"

Jim nodded as sagely as one could with a mouthful of not-quite-lettuce. "Right. Well, you don't know what happened to this time's you after I died, right?"

"Correct."

"So T'Pol could've turned on him next, right? Maybe you actually rewound the world to protect yourself when she went after you!"

Spock blinked at him. "What relevance does this have? Would not this time's Spock and Jim disappear when this time's Spock goes back in time?"

"Ah! To what time? Ours? I don't think the universe can take more than two fourth dimensional time-folds,"– they'd decided that morning that they needed some sort of a name for Spock's odd rewinding history thingy. "It wouldn't stay stable. So if this time's Spock can't go back, and T'Pol goes after him, then he's gone too, and we've just got to get her and clean up the bodies!"

Spock blinked some more. "You are strangely sure of this sequence of events."

Jim squirmed. "Well, I kinda… Remember it. A bit. I didn't die immediately."

Spock stared at him. "… You remember both your own fatal wounding and my own death."

"Well when you put it like that it sounds crazy," Jim said irritated. Spock raised An Eyebrow.

"I do not believe that I believe you."

Jim rolled his eyes and took another bite of salad. "'Ee need 'oo teach 'oo to speak 'ormal," he muttered. Spock did the eyebrow thing again.

"Assuming you are correct, we will have to dispose of the bodies of ourselves. How do you propose we do this?"

Jim, pleased that Spock had agreed with him, beamed. 20/20 hindsight, it was probably the creepiest thing he could have done. "I don't think many people go to those mountains. We could just stick them around a corner or something."

"What shall we say when the scavengers are followed to our own remains?"

Jim scowled at him. "Stop being so damn logical. Not everyone is as thorough as you are."

"If any people could be as methodical as I, it would be my own people," Spock responded arrogantly.

"Fine," Jim glared, "what's your brilliant idea? I'm just about out."

Spock looked like a sparrow who'd just been complained to about the quality of the tablecloths. "You are?"

"Well, I've been doing a lot lately," Jim said reasonably. "It's your turn."

"I do not believe that I will be of much use in this area," Spock muttered.

"Oh at least give it a try," Jim answered, exasperated. "I have to eat some time, you know."

Spock considered this. Jim consumed.

"… There is a possibility," Spock started slowly, "that this issue may not present itself at all."

"O'?" Jim asked. "'Ow so?"

"We are not supposed to exist because there are two sets of us. We do exist, however." Jim nodded silently, spurring the android on. "This is an extremely improbable occurrence. If an improbability field of exactly two to the power of seven thousand and twelve was –,"

"No!" Jim shouted wetly. "Not again! 'Ee've al'edy been through this! 'ook 'ere i's go'en us! No more 'eilds!"

"It may be our only choice," Spock argued. "This time must be unstable. I do not think that it will be intact for much longer. Another field may be able to stabilize it."

Jim swallowed heavily. "What, because two wrongs make a right in multidimensional physics?"

"No, because there is nothing else we can do."

"Oh, there has to be something," Jim optimistically insisted.

"I do not think that there is." Spock leaned forward, beseeching. "Think. There is another time, here. There are other versions of us, here. I do not believe that changing their environment to suit our needs is ethical."

"What?" Jim squinted at the odd man. "Are you nuts? We need this to be ours. If it's not, we're dead. I don't want to die."

"Yes, but our manipulation of current events is unbeneficial to the residents of this timeline. Who are we to decide who is to live and prosper, and who is to die?"

"We're desperate people," Jim said exasperatedly, "who want to survive. Who are stuck in a place filled with people who aren't supposed to exist anyway."

"I was not supposed to exist," Spock pointed out. "Does that make me unworthy of life? These people are the children and parents of others. I do not feel comfortable participating in a plan of this nature."

Jim sighed. "Look. Spock." He leaned forward. "If you can find a way – any other way – to get us back to our time, I will cheerfully follow you to the ends of the galaxy. But I don't know how else to do this."

Spock was silent for a few seconds. "… It is not fair," he insisted quietly.

Jim nodded tiredly. "No. It's not."

.bdobd.

By the time this time's Jim and T'Pau went off to this time's T'Pol's house, Jim and Spock had already been climbing the L-langin Mountains for half an hour. They'd thought it might be a good idea to get there early.

They watched the pod glide into the tunnel of the shuttle station. "Well. Now what," Jim asked.

Spock shrugged slightly. T'Pol'd gone down to the station ten minutes ago to welcome her doomed guest. The acoustics were such that they could talk about as loudly as they wanted to without having to worry about being overheard by anyone below them. "It seems wise to find a way to gain entrance to the building. I am uncertain how to accomplish this, however."

Jim groaned theatrically and pivoted to stare up at the imposing wall of starship hull. The shape of the house made it absolutely impossible to sneak in: it was set into a freaking mountain. It was front door or bust.

"It's weird that she didn't put in any kind of an escape hatch," Jim mused. "You'd think someone who worked for Starfleet would want some sort of a Plan B."

Spock froze in the middle of nodding his agreement. He speed-walked over to the intersection of metal and mountain and shot up the side of the rock. "I didn't know you could rock climb," Jim called up to the rapidly ascending Vulcan.

"It is a newly acquired skill," Spock answered coolly. Jim laughed.

"What're you looking for, anyway?"

Spock disappeared over the top of the mountain. "I, too, find it unlikely that T'Pol left herself no secondary exit route," Spock yelled. "There should be a hatch –,"

Jim stiffened as Spock's voice cut off unexpectedly. The android was disturbingly quiet. "You alright Spock?" he shouted. "You kinda dropped off there."

"Negative," a muffled voice said from inside the house, "I dropped in."

Jim grinned and ambled over to the door. "Soo, you gonna let me in."

"… I am considering it," came the voice.

Jim snorted. "C'mon, T'Pol and this Jim'll be here soon. We don't have that much time."

"We have much time," the voice said. The door popped open and…

It wasn't Spock.

.bdobd.

Not-Spock looked just as surprised as Jim felt. In a rather more subtle way, of course, but that was to be expected. "You are not my Jim."

"And you're not my Spock. What'd you do to him?"

Not-Spock looked older and thinner, altogether more 'Vulcany'. He had on long black robes that were tight across the chest and waist, and that were loose from the hip down. It was very dashing, and not what his Spock had had on when he climbed up the mountain.

"I do not believe I did anything to anyone," Not-Spock said slowly. "I opened the door to the dwelling of my cousin when it was requested of me by my bonded. I found that you are not he."

"Well then where's my Spock?" Jim demanded, crossing his arms stubbornly.

Not-Spock shook his head. "I do not know." He made to close the door. "Good day."

"Nu-uh!" Jim stuck his foot in the door. "I'm coming in. My Spock went up there to figure out how to get in, and either he was attacked really really quietly or he fell in something and needs help getting out. There has to be a ladder in here somewhere."

Not-Spock blinked at him as if he'd never seen an obstinate human before. "You are very determined," he said.

Jim raised his eyebrows and waited for Not-Spock to open the door.

Not-Spock did so. Jim swished into the house with a practiced flare. He chocked ungracefully on the super-heated air inside. "What the fuck!" he gasped.

"It is damp here," Not-Spock pointed out. "I raised the climate-control unit."

Jim gave him a chance to examine an excellent example of a Terran derogatory gesture and began staggering through rooms. Not-Spock followed behind him anxiously. "Where are you going? You seem to be ill. Shall I call a medical professional? You are human, yes?"

Jim didn't answer. He finally sighted the point at the back of the house and sped up.

There was a hatch set into the ceiling just above the sharply angled walls. Jim grinned victoriously. He knew it. There had to be a reason T'Pol hadn't just let the house end on a rounded corner. He'd seen something when he'd climbed the walls the first time, but T'Pol'd called him into the kitchen and he'd completely forgotten about it.

He was settling his foot into a rough patch of plaster when Not-Spock laid an authoritative hand on his shoulder. "I demand to know who you are. You have broken into –,"

"Who is James Tiberius Kirk?" Jim asked without turning from the walls.

Not-Spock blinked. "… Kirk? I know no one by the name of Kirk. What are you talking about."

"What about Jim? Do you know any Jims?"

"Affirmative. Jim is –," Jim could hear Not-Spock narrow his eyes. "Why do you wish to know this information?"

Jim smiled grimly. It made sense. "Jim is an android, right? He can make infinite improbability fields."

Not-Spock spun him around and pressed him against one of the walls. "How do you know of this? Nothing has been released."

"It's a long story. I need to find someone. I know who you're missing." He put on his best Disinterested/Bored Tone. "It's Jim, right? Someone who looks and sounds and acts like me. He was made by accident when you were trying for an infinite field."

"How do you know of this?" Not-Spock repeated stubbornly. "Nothing has been released."

"And you came here to show him off," Jim continued, "and he and T'Pol left the house for a while and didn't come back. You thought I was him."

Not-Spock's back was perfectly perpendicular to the floor. "That is correct," he said stiffly. "How do you know of this."

"In my world," Jim said, "it's you who's the field machine. I'm the one who screwed with you and made you sentient. We came here to vouch for android rights and I came here to talk with T'Pol. Spock came just in time to see her murder me."

Not-Spock's eyes blew wide. He let go of Jim and took a shaky step back before running full-throttle towards the door to the outside.

Jim turned around and began to scale the point. He knew where to put his feet now, and he wasn't playing. Somewhere on the top of the mountain Spock was faced with either Not-Jim's corpse or a Not-T'Pol.

The hatch in the ceiling was stuck on something. Jim braced his feet wide and thumped on the door as hard as he could with both hands. Something bumped back after a few seconds.

Jim paled. He found the side of the door opposite the hinges and pushed.

Something large and heavy rolled off of the hatch's opening, letting the door swing free.

Jim poked his head through the ceiling cautiously and peered into the black where the thing had rolled. His eyes widened as he took in the huge lump on the other side of the tunnel.

He grabbed the dead body of Not-Jim and tossed it onto the floor. Sparks flew from the frayed wires that hung from Not-Jim's mutilated neck.

Jim swallowed and heaved himself into the dark, narrow tunnel. Nothing would get better from him sticking around to marvel at how awful his own carcass looked.

.bdobd.

Jim crawled through the tunnels in the ceiling for what felt like hours until he found a ladder leading up to a door. The door opened onto the top of the mountain: Spock should be nearby.

Jim wandered about for a few minutes before admitting that Spock was not, in fact, anywhere nearby. He sighed and stomped back towards the hatch.

Spock was waiting there for him.

Jim broke into a huge grin. "Spock! I should've known you'd be in the last place I looked: how've you been? I had the weirdest conversation with a guy that looked just like you."

Spock nodded stiffly. "And I, you. Was the person you talked to an organic form of myself?"

"What?" Jim stopped about a foot in front of the Vulcan. "Well, yeah, actually. How'd you know?"

"I met your android form. He was waiting here."

"Ah," Jim winced, "I, ah, I did too."

"How is that possible?" Spock blinked. "Did he say anything of his alternate-dimension theory?"

"Well, he wasn't in the best condition."

"What do you mean?"

"He was pretty dead."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"… How, may I ask –?"

"Practically decapitated. Only his spinal cord was still attached."

"… That is regrettable."

"I feel worse for Selek – the not-you," Jim explained at Spock's confused look. "He looked pretty upset when I said that T'Pol was probably going to go after him – the not-me."

Spock nodded. "Indeed."

It sounded really sick, when he put it that way. It wasn't really a big issue, though. The dead's problems were basically over: it was the survivors who had to deal with the aftermath. Really, being permanently unconscious didn't sound terrible right now.

"Yeah, I guess," Jim shrugged. "Do you think there are two T'Pols?"

"Negative," Spock said. "If there were two of them, they would have contacted each other and engaged in a confrontation. Only one could have survived such."

"So, basically even if there were two of them, they would've killed each other by now," Jim said flatly.

"Yes."

Jim sighed and turned to stare out at one of the setting suns. The light had been turning bloodier with every hour. The sun's rays danced nervously over the mountain itself - they clung tightly to the sides of the cliff, just shy of the house, as if afraid of what they'd find there. Jim couldn't really blame them. Jim hadn't heard anything from Selek for hours; the man was probably dead.

"Any brilliant ideas?"

Spock shuffled quietly next to him to stand meekly by his shoulder. "There may be a way to reverse the time alteration, but such would damage the time stream irreparably. I do not believe that my manipulations of time are beneficial to the universe as it is."

Jim snorted. "Probably not." He twisted to stare at his odd companion. "What should we do? I don't want to stay here."

"Here may in fact be our time stream," Spock pointed out. "Time was only rewound. I believe that this is our lot, now."

"Well, fuck." Jim gazed delicately over the side of the cliff, looking for bodies. "We've got at least two bodies here, probably three, and no good explanation for any of them."

Spock's hand came to rest on Jim's lower back. Jim'd like to think it was for comfort, but it was probably just to make sure he didn't throw himself off the edge or something.

"… We should locate the corpses," Spock finally said. "If we explain the situation to the proper Vulcan authorities, we should not be punished. We did not, in fact, do anything illegal." The android's tone revealed how little he believed in his own plan.

Good or not, a plan was still better than dicking around without direction. Jim trudged over to the hatch in the rock and looked into it. This was probably going to suck.

"Shall we go look for decomposing flesh?" he said brightly.

Spock winced and crouched next to him. "It seems we have few alternatives."

.bdobd.

Not-Jim was lying where Jim'd left him. Spock flinched and dropped from the hole in the ceiling with a bit more grace than Jim'd had.

"Was it necessary to land on directly onto his torso?" Spock asked. His voice carried a faint tone of horror with it in a knapsack.

"Where else was I going to put my feet?" Jim said, kicking Not-Jim's shoulder so he could get into a hallway.

Spock now looked definitively ill. He grabbed Not-Jim's carcass and propped up against a wall in a seated position. Jim turned to peer at the strange Vulcan and groaned. "Aw, why'd you do that? Now his head's all floppy."

The android's mutilated neck wasn't enough to hold his head straight on his shoulders. It lolled alarmingly. Spock pushed it slightly into a more respectable position.

"It is better than being kicked."

"Dude, it's my body. Sorta. I can desecrate it all I want."

Spock frowned at him. "Is the body of an –?"

"This has nothing to do with him being an android," Jim said, exasperated. "It's about me self-identifying the body as my own. And fuck, it's not like he cares." he gestured expansively to the very very dead lump that was slowly tumbling in upon itself against the wall.

Spock whined softly. Jim stared at him. "Seriously. He's fine. We're having a way worse time of it than he is, remember? He's dead. Dead dead, can't-be-more-dead-than-this dead. He can't feel any more."

"He deserves some respect," Spock said quietly.

"It's just flesh now," Jim pointed out. "Well, metal. Sorta. And silicon and stuff. Any way you look at what-was-him, he/it can't care any more. Why dance around it when you could just move it?"

"It is not right," Spock insisted.

"Fine," Jim shrugged. "I'm gonna go see if I can help anyone who can feel and who can care and who can be helped. You can stay back here and worry about things that've passed on."

He walked out of the room.

Spock did, eventually, follow.

They found Selek's body, which was way more gory than Not-Jim's had been. Selek had fought back. They found most of him.

They didn't get much of T'Pol, though. Or Not-T'Pol, they couldn't really tell without A) asking which universe she was from (quite impossible) or B) closely examining the corpse, which they didn't have all of. She had misplaced most of her arms and was missing a lot of her right leg.

The second T'Pol was nowhere to be found. Spock postulated that she'd run off deep into the L-langin Mountains, which was just fine with Jim.

Having done all of this, they then got into a bit of a disagreement over what to do. Spock did not and would not stay in T'Pol's house, for obvious but frustrating reasons. Jim didn't want to go back into the city without first making sure that they were in the right universe.

They decided to sleep on it. Spock found a spot high on another mountain peak, where the fog wasn't quite so bone chilling and the smell of the bodies wouldn't carry. Jim used his shirt as a pillow and curled up against a rock wall. Spock sat opposite him and considered him carefully as he fell asleep.

.bdobd.